


The Singular Case of the Wool Bandit

by christinefromsherwood



Series: Sherlock Headcanons [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Established Relationship, Fluff, Headcanon, M/M, Sweaters, Wool, kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-17
Updated: 2014-10-17
Packaged: 2018-02-21 12:55:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2468945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/christinefromsherwood/pseuds/christinefromsherwood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What's John to do when his sweaters start disappearing and the world's greatest detective refuses to investigate?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Singular Case of the Wool Bandit

**Author's Note:**

> this was written for the fluffy friday tag on tumblr  
> and after two hours of deciding whether I liked it enough to put it up here, I decided to go for it :D  
> it's silly and it's fluffy, please do not expect anything more

It was September when John first noticed that his sweaters started disappearing. Well, he did notice before that there was a bit more room in his closet than usual, but it was only when it got really cold outside and he decided that yes, today was the day when he’d put on his favourite snuggly sweater, pour himself a cup of hot mint tea and watch old  Great British Bake Off episodes, that he realised his black-and-white striped sweater was missing. So was the beige one and the red one and the Christmas one!

He looked everywhere, asked Mrs Hudson, even phoned Mary to see if perhaps he had forgotten them at their old place, but the blasted things were simply no where to be found. And so he reconciled himselft to the fact that he’d have to buy new sweaters.

But the mystery didn’t end there! 

Because a week later, Mrs Hudson came to ask him if he would help her search for her magazine. She had sworn that it was on her nightstand when she went to sleep the night before and then was gone the following morning. And John would have usually been a bit sceptical about that, but after thoroughly (they even checked the freezer) searching Mrs Hudson’s whole flat for several hours he was forced to admit that the thing simply wasn’t there.

"Oh well, I suppose I’ll have to go ask Mrs Turner to lend me hers! There were these new knitting patterns in the August number!"

And it didn’t stop there. Soon, Lestrade, Anderson and Molly were missing one or two pieces of clothing as well! 

Sherlock, of course, laughed in his face when John suggested to him that someone was stealing his, Lestrade’s and Anderson’s clothes. He called them all idiots and refused to even contemplate the possibility of foul play. But John had learned to trust his instincts as a soldier and right now, they were telling him that there was something fishy going on. 

Sadly, his investigations were not going as fast as he would have liked. There was a new crisis in London to be dealt with, then Sherlock got sick and so November came and went and all John had managed to ascertain was the one thing that connected all thefts - wool. 

By the time Christmas rolled around John was ready to call the whole thing off. There was shopping, decorating, cooking, cleaning and murder solving to be done and yes, even he had to admit, in the great scheme of things, his sweaters weren’t the end-all and be-all. 

It was on the 25th December as he was holding a soft, festive-wrapped package in his lap that he first began to catch on. 

"You saw, but you did not observe, John!" Sherlock teased him from his armchair as he watched the realisation dawn in his eyes. 

His resolve not to lunge at the beautiful idiot was broken when he ripped the paper and pulled out a dark green turtleneck. 

"Sorry about your sweaters," Sherlock mumbled into his hair as John hugged his crazy boyfriend and pondered the advantages and downsides of ripping or unbuttoning Sherlock’s tight silky shirt. "They’re in my closet."

"Wouldn’t give a damn if they were at the bottom of the Thames," John whispered before proceeding to kiss Sherlock breathless. 


End file.
